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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28127667">Family Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugglemuggle/pseuds/rythyme'>rythyme (pugglemuggle)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dimension 20 (Web Series), Dimension 20: Fantasy High</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Dates, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, awkward dads, but just know that it does happen off-screen, i was too much of a coward to write the demon man banging the lunch lad, kind of?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:54:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28127667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugglemuggle/pseuds/rythyme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gorthalax is a very attractive man, and despite the fact that he is the same man who made a cuckold of Gilear when he slept with his wife and fathered his child, Gilear is simply not immune to the devil’s obvious physical allure.</p><p>Or — It's Family Night at Aguefort Adventuring Academy, and Fig has a concert planned for the end of the evening. Fig's mom can't make it, but luckily both of Fig's dads can. Awkward dad shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Figueroth Faeth &amp; Gilear Faeth, Figueroth Faeth &amp; Gorthalax the Insatiable, Gilear Faeth/Gorthalax the Insatiable</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Family Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm_coconut/gifts">mm_coconut</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope you like this! Thanks for giving me the chance to write about these two, haha. It was a lot of fun. :)</p><p>This fic is set at an ambiguous point after S1E9: Dishing with a Demon. Gilear is the lunch lad, and Gorthalax is not yet the Bloodrush coach. Also this is an AU where Fig actually goes to a bard class and makes bard friends. I just really wanted her to be playing in a band already!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So, um, Gilear?" Fig says, accepting the basket of tater tots he sets onto her lunch tray. It's the start of the lunch period, and the cafeteria is bustling with hungry students. Fig is holding up the line a little, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Since you're like, the Lunch Lad now... do you have to work on Family Night next week?"</p><p>"Family Night?" Gilear pauses and attempts to remember his new work schedule. While working as a Lunch Lad does have a few perks — namely seeing his daughter again every day after several months of frigid silence — there are several significant downsides, including mandatory overtime for school events. He frowns. "I will need to look at the work calendar Vice Principal Goldenhoard has given me, but if there are any refreshments served then yes, I suppose I will be working that night."</p><p>"Oh." Fig's face falls a little. "Well... There's like, this dumb little concert me and some of the other bard students are going to be doing at the end of Family Night, but — it's not a big deal or anything, so it's fine if you can't make it. But if you can, you could come. If you want to."</p><p>“I see…” Gilear watches Fig’s eyes, downcast as she seems to focus on filling a little paper with ketchup. “I’ll have to get the end of the night off, then.”</p><p>“Really?” Fig looks up, her expression brightening before she visibly reigns in her excitement and shrugs. “I mean— sure. Cool. It’s fine either way, but… Yeah. That’d be cool.”</p><p>Fig leaves the lunch counter, much to the relief of the students lined up behind her, and Gilear is now saddled with the task of figuring out how to get out of catering Family Night.</p><p>He’ll find a way. </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>It takes several painstaking hours of pouring Jello cups, a minor kitchen fire, and a rather large cash bribe to the local Pizza Hut, but somehow Gilear manages to get enough pre-prepared food stowed away to take off the majority of Family Night. When the evening itself arrives, most of his work is already finished. He just has to heat up some pizzas, arrange the Jello cup tower, and set out the plastic plates and cutlery. The rest, he hopes, will take care of itself.</p><p>Gilear is just hanging up his Lunch Lad apron when Fig arrives in the school kitchen. “Yo, Gilear! So you did manage to get the night off after all?”</p><p>“Oh, yes,” he replies. “I struck a deal with one of the nearby pizzeria establishments and…” He trails off when he notices a familiar hulking figure standing behind Fig, hunched over slightly to fit under the door frame. “Oh. Gorthalax. It’s… good to see you again.”</p><p>“Good to see you too, Gilear. Glad you could make it,” Gorthalax says. Rather than his usual demonic overlord attire, he’s wearing slacks and a much too small button-up which (Gilear must admit) does look rather good on him. The buttons of his shirt strain over his shockingly large pectorals, and the fabric around his biceps looks to be on the verge of bursting. His eyes, a fetching emerald, glow brightly from deep within his skull, illuminating his chiseled features. His hair appears to be styled today with some sort of gel — Fig’s doing, perhaps? Altogether Gorthalax is a very handsome man, and despite the fact that this is the very same man who made a cuckold of Gilear when he slept with his wife and fathered his child, Gilear is simply not immune to the devil’s obvious physical allure. He sighs and swallows past the sudden dryness in his throat. Oh well. He’s used to being alone at night.</p><p>“So, we’ve got some time before I have to to run to rehearsal,” Fig says. “Do you guys want to go find a table?”</p><p>“Sure, sweetie,” Gorthalax says. Then he looks at Gilear. “Have you eaten yet, Gilear?”</p><p>“I’m afraid not.”</p><p>“Great!” Fig’s grin is radiant. “Let’s go grab something to eat, then.”</p><p>They settle down at a small round folding table near the back of the cafeteria. Gorthalax is perched haphazardly on his plastic chair which creaks worryingly under his weight. but he makes no complaints. There is notably no food in front of Gorthalax.</p><p>“Are you not eating, Gorthalax?” Gilear asks politely. </p><p>Gorthalax waves his hand like he’s dismissing the question. “Oh, no. Not much of a food guy anymore, unfortunately.”</p><p>“He can’t eat,” Fig says through a mouthful of pizza. “It’s the ‘Insatiable’ thing. He’s literally in-satiable.” She looks up at Gorthalax. “I’m still working on a way to fix that though, by the way.”</p><p>“That’s sweet of you, kiddo.”</p><p>“I’m serious — it’s gonna happen.”</p><p>Gorthalax smiles in a way that somehow manages to look kind rather than frightening despite his many rows of long, sharp teeth. He and Fig really do seem to get along well. Gilear sighs through his nose and takes another bite of his oily pepperoni pizza. One of the pepperoni pieces slides off the slice and onto his lap. He sighs again.</p><p>“Gilear,” Gorthalax says, startling him out of his thoughts. Gorthalax is looking at him. “You have some marinara on your face.” He points to a spot on his own chin. “Right here.”</p><p>“Oh.” Gilear tries to wipe at the spot, but Gorthalax just shakes his head and gestures again. This goes on for another three attempts. </p><p>“Here,” Gorthalax says finally. “Let me give you a hand.”</p><p>And then, before Gilear has time to properly prepare himself, Gorthalax is extending a large, meaty arm across the entire length of the table, a white paper napkin held in his enormous hand. The hand is easily the size of Gilear’s entire head. Gilear stares, frozen in place, as Gorthalax reaches forward just a little bit more and carefully, gently, wipes the marinara from Gilear’s chin. </p><p>“Got it,” Gorthalax rumbles.</p><p>“Ah, I — erm. Yes,” Gilear stammers. “Thank you.”</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Gorthalax says with another one of his impossibly kind smiles. Gilear’s sad, pitiful little heart skips a beat.</p><p>Soon, it’s time for Fig to head to rehearsal. “The concert starts at 7, but they’ll open it up seating at 6:45,” she tells them. “Make sure to get there a little bit early, okay?”</p><p>“You got it, sweetheart,” Gorthalax says. Then Fig dashes off to the gymnasium, and Gilear is alone with his daughter’s demonic biological father.</p><p>“Looks like the kids have a few carnival booths out there,” Gorthalax says, gesturing towards the courtyard. “Should we go check it out?”</p><p>Gilear doesn’t have the excuse of having to manage the kitchen, since it seems like there’s still plenty of pizza to go around, so he agrees and follows Gorthalax’s hulking form to the courtyard. </p><p>Calling the courtyard setup “a few carnival booths” turns out to be a bit of an understatement. The students of Aguefort do not do things by half. It seems as though almost every extracurricular club at the school has set up some kind of activity to share with their classmates and families: the Bloodrush team has set up an arm wrestling contest, the AV club is facilitating a trivia game, and the baking club is running a cakewalk. Frankly, Gilear didn’t know that this school had a baking club. He wonders where the club meets. Is there another kitchen in the school that he doesn’t know about? Or are they secretly using his kitchen after hours? He has noticed ingredients go missing from time to time…</p><p>“Should we take a look?” Gorthalax asks, snapping Gilear back to the present. Gorthalax is gesturing towards the first row of booths.</p><p>“Oh — yes. Yes, let’s take a look around.”</p><p>It’s very, very awkward, but Gilear supposes that’s to be expected. They are two single adults wandering alone through a high school carnival while their daughter is off practicing elsewhere. Even if Gorthalax weren’t a twelve-foot-tall devil, they’d stick out like sore thumbs — not that it seems to bother Gorthalax. If Gorthalax is feeling out of place here, he does not mention it. </p><p>They’re passing by a petting zoo set up by a group of druid students when Gorthalax points ahead at the archery club’s booth. “Want to try popping some balloons?” he asks. </p><p>Gilear watches as a parent tosses a dart at a wall of balloons taped to a plywood board at the back of the booth. It’s the first activity they’ve seen that wouldn’t be too strange for a single dad to partake in, and it looks simple enough. Still — Gilear has terrible aim. </p><p>“I’m not very good at darts, I’m afraid,” Gilear says. “My hand-eye coordination has never been very impressive.”</p><p>“C’mon, it doesn’t hurt to give it a shot,” Gorthalax says. “What do you have to lose?”</p><p>And the answer, of course, is nothing. The game is free, and Gilear lost his dignity ages ago. There is truly nothing left for him to lose in this situation.</p><p>“Very well,” he agrees. “Let’s give it a go.”</p><p>The first dart goes comically off-target, landing with a disappointing <em> thwp </em>in the grass in front of the board. The second is only marginally better — it still lands in the grass, but at least it’s a little closer to the board. One of the students managing the booth stifles a laugh.</p><p>“I think this may be the best I’m capable of,” Gilear says. “Why don’t you give it a go?”</p><p>Gorthalax shakes his head. “You’ve still got three darts left. Here — let me give you some tips.”</p><p>Gilear isn’t quite sure what Gorthalax is planning, but it quickly becomes apparent when he moves behind Gilear and takes ahold of Gilear’s wrist from behind. “Try throwing it a bit more like this,” Gorthalax says, guiding Gilear’s arm through the movement. Gilear swallows. Gorthalax is telling him something about timing and correct posture, but Gilear finds himself unable to focus on a single word. Gorthalax’s huge, overwhelming presence at his back and the warmth of his hand around his wrist are enough to make all coherent thoughts flee his mind entirely. This is really not how Gilear imagined the evening would go. </p><p>Finally, Gorthalax takes a step back. “Got it?” he says. </p><p>Gilear nods, even though it’s a lie. He takes in a deep breath — something he apparently hadn’t done at all in the minute that Gorthalax was trying to improve his dart throwing techniques. “Ah, yes. Thank you. I’ll give these last three darts a toss, shall I?”</p><p>Gilear does his best to remember the motion Gorthalax had shown him. He pulls back his arm, aims, and throws the dart. </p><p>The dart, miraculously, does actually hit the board this time.</p><p>“Good,” Gorthalax says. The praise causes Gilear’s brain to momentarily short-circuit. “Try keeping your arm a little straighter this time.”</p><p>“Ah— Right,” Gilear manages to say. He tries to do as told, paying close attention to his form as he aims the fourth dart.</p><p>There is a very brief moment as the dart sails through the air that Gilear thinks this must be it. The trajectory of the dart is good. There’s a blue balloon sitting directly in its path, filled close to bursting. Then, just as the tip of the dart looks like it’s about to pierce the rubber balloon, the dart veers off course, as though sliding around some sort of invisible barrier. Instead of hitting the balloon, the dart lodges harmlessly into the plywood.</p><p>“Oh,” Gilears says. “Perhaps I put some spin into it by mistake.”</p><p>“Hm. Maybe,” Gorthalax says, but his tone is doubtful. The flames behind his dark eye sockets seem to glow a little more dangerously. “Give it one more shot.”</p><p>“All right,” Gilear agrees, though he’s beginning to wonder if it’s worth trying. Clearly, the universe is not very keen on giving him a win tonight.</p><p>Nevertheless, he picks up the final dart and holds it just like Gorthalax showed him. He eyes the wall of balloons, staring at the blue one he'd nearly hit before. Well... it can't hurt. He might as well aim for that one again. He pulls back the dart, throws it, and —</p><p>The balloon explodes. </p><p>The sound is loud enough to draw the attention of most of the nearby parents and students. The archery student who was manning the booth is completely drenched from head to foot, his hair hanging limply in his face as he gasps like a fish. Had there been that much water in the balloon? Gorthalax and Gilear, by contrast, are miraculously dry.</p><p>"Good shot," Gorthalax says. There's a smile hiding at the corner of his mouth. “You’re a lot better at this when the balloons aren’t protected by a warding spell.” </p><p>Gilear looks at the broken bits of blue balloon that fleck the grass. “Oh…” </p><p>“Let’s keep things fair next time, okay kiddo?” Gorthalax says to the student. He gives the student a look that might look mildly disapproving coming from most parents, but Gorthalax isn’t most parents — he’s a devil of the Nine Hells. The kid immediately goes white as a sheet and nods just as quickly.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” he says. “Sorry, sir.”</p><p>“Good.” Gorthalax reaches around the student to pull one of the prizes from behind the booth: a small owl bear plushie with a lopsided face and unevenly sized wings. He hands it to Gilear. “It’s almost 6:45. Let’s go grab seats for Fig’s concert.”</p><p>They manage to get seats just a couple rows back from the stage. The gym is surprisingly busy — apparently word of the concert has spread among the students and families, and most of the Family Night guests are making their way towards the makeshift concert hall. He feels a rush of pride that his daughter’s concert will be so well attended. She has always been a talented musician.</p><p>A few minutes before the concert is scheduled to start, the lights dim. A spotlight fills the center of the stage, and several colored lights make patterns over the crowd. Then a girl with horns and an electric bass guitar steps into the light. “Hey everyone,” she says. “Let’s bring the house down.”</p><p>The crowd erupts into cheers — mostly students, by the sound of it. Clearly Fig’s band is well known enough to have a reputation among the student body. Gilear’s pride swells again.</p><p>A few more spotlights illuminate two more guitarists and a drummer. A hush falls over the crowd. The drummer counts off, and the music begins.</p><p>Gilear does not have much experience with heavy metal music, but judging by the energy in the crowd around them, it’s an excellent concert. Fig looks confident on stage. She’s completely in her element, laughing and playing to the crowd. Maybe this is one thing he’s done right, he thinks. No matter how much of a disaster his own life becomes, Fig is going to be just fine. </p><p>They congratulate Fig after the concert. She hugs them both: Gilear first, then Gorthalax. She hasn’t hugged him in a long time, and he’s almost too surprised to hug back — but he does. He may or may not go a little misty eyed.</p><p>“That concert was fuck— I mean, really awesome,” Fig gushes. “It was, like, really cool that you guys came. So. Thanks, I guess.”</p><p>“Of course,” Gorthalax says. “I’m proud of you, kiddo. Thanks for letting me be a part of this.”</p><p>Fig ducks her head. “Sure. And, um. Thanks, dad. For taking off work.”</p><p>Gilear nearly misses that <em> he’s </em> the dad she’s talking to. He can’t remember the last time Fig called him “dad”. It’s suddenly very difficult to speak.</p><p>Once they’ve finished congratulating her, Fig asks if she can go to the after party. “It’s just a small thing with my friends over at Fabien’s place. I was kind of hoping to spend the night there actually, if that’s okay.”</p><p>Gilear gives his permission, under the condition that she promises to stay safe and responsible. She does, and while the promise does not waylay all his worries, he does trust her — mostly. Besides, he knows her friends. They seem like a responsible bunch, even if Fig’s history with responsible behavior has been somewhat fraught lately.</p><p>They wave goodbye to Fig at the school entrance. The evening autumn air is cool, and Gilear shivers.</p><p>“Well, I should get going,” Gilear says. “The last bus leaves soon. If I miss it, I’m afraid I’ll have to sleep in the staff room again…”</p><p>“I could give you a ride.”</p><p>Gilear blinks. “Oh.”</p><p>“It’d be no trouble.” He snaps, and a red convertible emerges from the parking lot. It parks next to the curb. “You live in the Strongtower Luxury Apartments, right?” </p><p>“Right…” Gilear eyes the vehicle. Aside from its ability to move on command, it looks like a perfectly normal car. “Well, I suppose if you don’t mind…”</p><p>“Not at all,” Gorthalax assures him. “It’s the least I can do. </p><p>They spend most of the drive in silence. Gilear keeps trying to think of things to say, but comes up empty. What can he, a middle-aged school cafeteria worker, talk about with a powerful, terrifying, monstrously attractive prince of the Nine Hells? </p><p>By the time they arrive at Gilear’s apartment, Gilear has failed to start even a single conversation. He sighs. Gorthalax parks outside the apartment entrance and walks him to his porch, even though Gilear insists it isn’t necessary. They exchange awkward goodnights, and Gilear lifts his keys to the door.</p><p>“Wait,” Gorthalax says. Gilear pauses. Gorthalax looks uncharacteristically hesitant — an expression Gilear hadn’t thought possible on a devil of his size and stature. He withdraws his hand from the door.</p><p>“I just wanted to say — thanks.” The devil drums his clawed fingers against the railing by the porch steps. “I know the last couple of years haven’t been easy, and I know a lot of that is my fault. You and Sandra Lynn—”</p><p>“Oh, no. The divorce is not your fault,” Gilear says quickly. He’s not sure why it’s suddenly so important that Gorthalax knows this, but he forges on ahead anyway. “Sandra and I — our relationship was heading in that direction before Fig’s horns grew in.”</p><p>“Oh. I see.” Gorthalax seems to take a moment to process this. “Well — I still want to say thank you. Fig is an incredible girl, and at least a little bit of that is because you were there to raise her. I think you did a pretty bang-up job.”</p><p>The words fill Gilear’s chest with warmth, and his face feels too hot. “Thank you.” he says. “I’m… very grateful to you as well. You’ve been a good influence on Fig. She looks up to you.”</p><p>“She looks up to you too, you know.”</p><p>Gilear laughs, though he hadn’t intended to. “I’m not sure that’s true, but I appreciate the sentiment.”</p><p>“No, I’m serious,” Gorthalax insists. “Life dealt you a tough hand, but you’re resilient. You always make an effort, and I know Fig notices that. That kind of determination is admirable enough.” He turns to Gilear, his eyes glowing like sea glass. “Fig is tenacious. That’s not from her mom, and it’s not from me. That’s from you.”</p><p>“Oh.” Gilear swallows the lump in his throat. “I— Ah. Thank you.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Gorthalax replies. He puts a hand on Gilear’s shoulder, the heat of his palm sinking through Gilear’s thin polo shirt. Oh. Gilear’s pulse jumps. “You’re a good father.”</p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>Gorthalax’s glowing green eyes seem to hold him in place, and Gilear has no choice but to look back. Silence stretches as he stares, a tension rising between them that Gilear hasn’t felt in a long, long time. Surely not, he thinks. But — maybe. What if…?</p><p>After a heavily charged thirty seconds or so, Gilear blinks. Gorthalax pulls his hand away quickly, like he’d forgotten it was there. “Sorry,” he says. “I should probably let you go.”</p><p>“Oh — yes. I should — go.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>Neither of them moves.</p><p>Gilear has something he wants to ask. It’s probably one of the most idiotic things he could say, but what does he have to lose? Gilear takes a breath, stands a little straighter, and gathers his courage. </p><p>“Would you like to come inside?” he asks. </p><p>“Oh.” Gorthalax’s eyes widen. For a short, terrifying moment, Gilear thinks that he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. Then Gorthalax tilts his head down, looking almost bashful, and says, “Yeah. I’d love to.”</p><p>And so Gorthalax the Insatiable, ruler of the Bottomless Pit and prince of the Nine Hells, follows Gilear into his apartment. Perhaps good things can happen to him after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you liked this story! Kudos and comments are always appreciated, but never expected. I just love to see what y'all think! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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